Of Stars and Gods
by Girlaremo
Summary: The Land of Stars is a place where past and present mingle. Old and new live together in the same place, but for how long? There's a deep dark secret under the capitol Epsilon, and it's been eating away at people for decades. When Arthur's fiance goes missing under mysterious circumstances, can he find Francois in time? FrUK AusHun mentioned Rated T for possible gore.
1. Slice of Paradise

Morning light filtered through the windows of a split level house, right of the main street of a bustling city. The sound of horse's hooves and wheels, along with the pitter-patter of human feet going up and down the cobblestone road made for quiet background noise. Fresh air blew against the sheer curtains in front of the open window, moving the corners of papers held down by a marbled glass paperweight on a desk. A calendar read that it was the 19th of April, Year 920-4. In the land of Orion, Saiph was one of the major port cities next to the holy capitol of Epsilon.

It was just the start of spring, and the weather was beautiful out thanks to the warm waters of the south creeping back into the bay. Arthur remembered about how he needed to find someone to clean the gutters out thanks to the winter breaking off bits of the shingles and depositing them there. It wouldn't be much to buy some slate shingles again and replace the himself...but then that would give him more reason to clean the gutters on his own. Opening his eyes finally to the world around him, the blond sighed and reached a hand up to adjust the mussed tresses he had gained from sleeping with wet hair. Burying his nose in the scent of fresh washed sheets and lavender soap, Arthur sighed and let his gaze wander to his partner, sleeping in the bed next to him.

Longer caramel blond hair with a few strands resting on his face, full lips and high cheekbones, a straight nose and thick eyelashes that framed blue eyes when he was awake. Even his figure was beautiful. To match his slender and graceful face, he was lithe and lean, pale skin decorated with fading ink marks and small 'beauty marks' across his shoulders. Smiling lightly, he wondered how someone like Francois could come to love someone like himself.

Arthur wasn't really the tallest or the most handsome, with his thick eyebrows and heavy accent from being born and raised farther North in Cephus. Not to mention his square shaped face and eyes set a hair too close together, and his crooked nose from being in too many drunk bar fights while serving in the military. The crooked nose and the heavy wool-spun dress suit were the only reminders of those days.

Thinking of all the insecurities he had, it made him feel a bit better that someone enamored him even though he thought himself downright awful at times.

Soon enough, Arthur's love awoke slowly, squinting slightly before pulling the blankets over his face. "It's so bright in here...You told me you'd put up the curtains as soon as spring came..."

"I would, but I've seemed to have misplaced the drapes." Truth was, he wanted to see how long it would take the other to notice he did put them up, he just didn't pull them closed at night. "Maybe while I'm at work, you can look for them?" He knew well enough that Francois couldn't 'function properly' without having a cup of coffee or the equivalent of such.

"I will...as soon as I get the post out and send off that parcel you've been neglecting to your brothers." A pause from the other, then a light sigh. "And if I find them, I'm putting them up myself." The other replied, peeking back out as soon as his vision adjusted. Still tired looking, Francois sighed and smiled a bit at the other. "...After a cup of coffee."

"You and that dark brew of yours—If I were in danger and you had to put off coffee for the rest of your life, sometimes I wonder which you would choose." Arthur teased, moving a bit closer to the other, nudging his feet against the other's.

"Nonsense—I'd choose you. Then I'd drink all your tea to compensate." A light smile crossed the fair man's lips, nudging forward to rest his forehead on Arthur's, closing his eyes as he did so. "...Another wonderful morning in paradise. Who knew I'd love waking up next to you as much as I do?"

"I think you should have known—You kept coming back after the time we came home drunk from the bar. And you were _sober_ mind you." Thinking back to those days, they both looked quite different. Arthur actually had a very orange mustache at the time, and Francois had just ended his time as a sage in the capitol's monastery.

 _'I'm not one to enjoy being told what I can't do. They told me from the time I was young, no drinking, no smoking, nothing to pollute your body.'_

 _'And here you are. Out in the world.'_

 _'Smoking, drinking, and enjoying it. Not that I didn't when I was there anyways.'_

"Let's just say I thought that mustache was cute, but I stayed for what was under the squirrel hair." With their proximity being a gain for Francois, he pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, smiling soon after. "Arthur James Kirkland, I love you to pieces."

"I love you more than myself, Francois Renė Bonfils." A moment sitting in bed still, and Arthur roused himself to get up, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched. Francois watched the other's muscles shiver, not quite ready to get out of bed just yet. "You be sure to look for those drapes, though." Sliding out from between the sheets, Arthur pulled on his housecoat and tied up the front.

"I'll be here for the day. I've got things to do around here, so I'll meet you for dinner say...six?"

"If it's as good as last night's I'll keep on coming back for more. Especially that dessert of yours last Tuesday."

"Arthur, I just gave you store bought pound cake with strawberry jam on it." Sure, it was a bit of a poke to his cooking skill, but Francois took it in stride sitting upright as the other picked out his clothes for the day. "You're something else, you know that?"

"I'm yours. Until the end of time." Arthur retorted, holding up his hand and displaying the silver band around his ring finger with a hearty, 'evil villain' laugh.

"Come September, sure. Until then, you're my beau, and I'll do with you what I will." Bringing himself out of bed, Francois pulled one of the pillows off the bed, putting it over his groin area. "This is why I asked for the drapes."

"Look hard and long for them, Francois. They're around here somewhere." With a wide smirk on his face, Francois finally got the hints, furrowing his brows as the other left for the shower.

" _Arthur James Kirkland, you son of a bitch._ "

* * *

"You know, it's been rumored that they're going to start the Light Ceremony earlier than usual." The usual lunch break chatter filled Arthur's ears as he listened to the idle chatter of people who worked in the bank. Usually lunch breaks were quiet, and he didn't mind catching up on his gossip. "I even heard that the festival is going to be bigger than usual."

"Of course, the Luma Sages predicted that the year was going to be plentiful. The crops would grow well, and there wouldn't be any invasions from Grus or Cygni."

"You know they've been quiet for years. They're too busy fighting each other to bat an eye at us. Plus, they've both got funding for their war with weapons and money from Leonis. Lord knows they love war so much, they bet on those two to fight. That's why they have the capitol here, too." Arthur replied, looking over his bookwork and reading glasses at the gossiping coworkers. "Anyways, I thought you had some balances to do, Annemarie?"

"Oh, silly Arthur. I can gossip with Eliza and balance books at the same time." Annemarie was a dirty blond-haired girl with lovely curls and even prettier green eyes. They were that shade of blue green that looked like they could change color in the light. They usually looked like moss because of the red hair bow she wore every day at her boyfriend's recommendation.

Elizabeta, however was one of the tellers at the bank and was heavily pregnant, so she couldn't do much else other than sit at the bank window and let people withdraw and store money. Her husband, Roderich, was a conductor for the University's symphony, which preformed in the capitol from time to time. When asked why she wouldn't become a full time mother, she simply said 'because, I know Roderich has his days off, I have mine. It's joint parenting, and it's an easy way to allow your child to know both the mother and father. Plus, Roderich needs to learn how to act around children...he's so afraid of them for some reason.'

It was usually himself, Annemarie, Elizabeta and occasonally the owner of the bank, Basch and his younger sister, whom he was taking care of. Both were blond and held their composure quite well, and they always looked as if they were going to somewhere fancy. It was easy enough to tell they were siblings, as they shared the same eye shapes, same face shape, and the same dusty blond hair. While Basch had a more fashionable look with a simple undercut, Hana was the opposite with long braided hair, sometimes put up in curls on days when Basch came in late. Hana was blind from the day she was born, and relied on a service dog to get around. It was usually her and Silas walking around, and Basch was somewhere in the area.

Sometimes she also let Silas off the harness he wore and the dog would occasionally wander over to Arthur and nuzzle under his arm until he got a treat that he kept in the drawer of his desk. After that, he would go back and sit at Hana's feet until the harness was put back on.

"Either way, you'd think they were running out of sages. They say that the number of inducted sages is at an all time low. They've only got five Archsages. We had about...eight in house last year." Annemarie shrugged her shoulders and swung her feet at her desk, almost like a child would. "I'm just saying, though. With the lack of orphaned children going into the ministry, they're dwindling."

"Oh, just wait. The next surge of new mothers is coming. There's always going to be a guy who doesn't want to put his dick in a rubber." Elizabeta said without much hesitation, making Arthur frown at the both of them.

"You almost made me write 'dick' in the ledgers. Could you not talk so loudly?"

"Dick, dick, dick, dick, penis, penis, vagina. There, I got it out of my system. I'll whisper for your gentle ears, Arthur." Eliza mocked, looking over her own paperwork. "Ooh...but this is getting difficult for me to manage. Baby Edelstein has my nerves all pinched together and if I move right, it sets them off."

"I told you that you should have taken maternity leave! What would happen if your water broke here in the office?"

The conversations over lunch break and the quiet hours were usually like this, ending at about one in the afternoon, then Arthur left his job at five thirty when people started bringing in their deposit money from a hard day's work.

Usually he'd take the trolley that ran up and down the busier streets of Saiph. Being built on one of the costal mountains, the invention of the trolley was one of the better options for those who had to climb steeper hills to get to their jobs.

Also being in the middle of a industrial revolution, it meant that there were more factories popping up everywhere, making the economy better with it. How they got some people to work in the factories, and making what was a different question.

It was almost like living in paradise, though. Arthur had fallen in love with the mild weather and beautiful landscape of Saiph, and with the beach about fifteen minutes away, it really did feel like a little slice of heaven, along with Francois.

There were times where he could hear Anri and Eliza gossiping about how Francois would occasionally phone Arthur at work, and how he looked like a lovesick teenager on the phone, twirling the cord of the phone and leaning on the wall as he smiled from ear to ear. Mostly it was about groceries and if he needed anything, but it still didn't matter—he always got to the little quiet 'I love you's in the end before the other would repeat the phrase and hang up.

With Francois and Arthur's wedding set up to be in September, the weather would be perfect again, and they had already asked the Solas church to do the ceremony, and they accepted. In Francois' time staying around home, he was more so looking out for things that they could do after the wedding.

Francois didn't have any family to speak of, but Arthur's brothers thought of him as family from the first time Francois outdrank Rory, the second eldest of the five of them. But, to put things in perspective, Kenneth and Rory were fraternal twins and were at least twenty eight, Arthur was twenty six, Bran was twenty five and Shannon was the youngest at fourteen. With the bigger age difference between Shannon and Bran, one could assume that their mother had problems with the pregnancy and passed away, even with the bettering healthcare people were receiving. And with their father out of the picture a few months prior to Shannon's birth, it was a bit sad, but they all managed somehow.

With Rory and Kenneth acting as parental figures, it was actually easy to say that Shannon turned out a kind child with manners, and occasionally the wisecrack that would make people split down the sides with laughter.

As Arthur thought of all these things, there was a quiet thought about one thing couples think about from time to time. It quieted him on the ride home, up until he got to the door of their house and put up his things, hearing music from the old radio in the living room. It was an old tune that had been playing in bars all around the area a few years back. The smell of well seasoned food filled the hallway as he slipped off his shoes and wandered along to the kitchen. "I didn't realize that I would be getting dinner and a show tonight." He caught Francois off guard, almost making the poor man jump out of his skin. "Oh gods, sorry—I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't intending for that, but if that's what you want, I can finish whipping the cream and dance if you want." It seemed as if he were putting the finishing touches on a cake he had made. It looked to be angel food, and it was lobbed in half in the middle so that there'd be a cream filling. How thoughtful.

"Mm, I don't know...that's a difficult decision to make." Undoing his tie a bit, he crept a bit closer. "A finished cake, or dancing..." Creeping closer, Francois' meek smile turned wider until the other got close enough that he tapped the other with the cream-covered whisk. "Oi!" A quick wipe and Arthur got most of the cream in one swoop, looking it over before sticking his fingers in his mouth. "...Buttercream. Hunh."

"Yes, yes it is. But I need to finish this before it loses its shape, Arthur. Then I'll have time before dinner's done." Wiping the bit of extra cream that Arthur's nose, he allowed the other to finish what was left before going about putting all the frosting in a piping bag.

"You're going to make me fat with that." Arthur remarked, leaning on the counter, just watching contently.

"And that's why I suggested those classes at the community center. Aerobics would do you good at your sit down job. I am enamored by you and you'll never change in my eyes, but if you're worried about getting fat, I'd suggest walking."

"You're honestly the most kind, yet sharp tongued being I've ever met."

"Some days, I have to be kind and sharp with my words. But, you don't seem to mind. Not when I sugar coat them after."

A moment of silence, and a familiar tune came on the radio, piquing their interests. "...You remember this song?"

"It's...ours, isn't it? I hope you remember, I was having my third drink at the time."

"I was on my fourth and _I_ still remember." Standing upright from the counter, Arthur bowed gracefully and offered his hand to the slightly taller blond. "But, I humbly ask for your hand to dance, my dear. It would delight me to no end if you would join me."

Putting down the piping bag and ignoring the half decorated dessert, Francois slipped his hand into Arthur's, holding ever so gently. "I would love to, sir. It would be an honor." Arthur came out of his graceful bow and brought himself closer to the other, resting his hand on his partner's hip, while the other's hand fell to Arthur's shoulder. "Do you remember what you asked me when this song came on and you thought you wooed me with your military uniform and that kind smile of yours?

"Mm, refresh my memory." Slowly they swayed, taking in the moment that surrounded them.

"Well...you told me I was the most beautiful thing you had seen since you had gotten home." Francois stared, making Arthur smile a bit sheepishly. "I've refreshed your memory...now tell me, do you remember what _I_ said?"

"You asked me if I were looking at the scotch in my hand or you. And I said 'Dear, this scotch is a two and you're a ten. I'll give you five seconds to accept or decline coming with me into the washroom and banging furiously.'."

"You're lucky I found you charming and we were both a bit drunk." Francois chuckled as the other turned red in the face, pressing his forehead against the other's. "We both woke up in your temporary apartment, hung over and you were still singing that song from the night before." He hummed. As the song went on, the two of them grew silent and settled into the moment with the soft music playing in the background. "I don't think I could be any happier right now." Glacing at the silver ring on his own finger, Francois sighed and closed his eyes, listening as Arthur hummed the rest of their song.

* * *

"All the children are going into the work houses when they're old enough...why aren't they coming here?" It was the question that one Archsage asked another, faces concealed by porcelain masks, decorated in blues and golds.

"It's because nobody wants to follow anymore. If you've noticed, everyone works now. The factories are taking people and some work weekends, others don't. When they aren't working, they sleep. As much as it make sense, it's worrying." Another said, sighing heavily. "To make things worse, there aren't as many children _in general._ "

"There aren't any people running the streets anymore. Everything is...I hate to say it, too perfect. We have to do something. Deisidus can't wait much longer. If we want another seven years of good fortune, we need to do something! Slaughter the best cattle, get the purest sheep!"

"But it said—" _Smack!_ The room silenced as leather gloves hit cold marble.

"I _know_ what it said."

"Then what do we do?"

"...We make do. We make a draft, and we'll go from there." A heavy sigh came from one of the Archsages. "And we'll take what we have, make it pure again, and give it for offering. Next time, we'll do better."

"You think if we follow through with this, we'll get a next time?"

"It knows this is all we have. Deisidus will have to accept. We depend on it just as it depends on us."


	2. Confliction

_Seven years earlier..._

"I can't believe you decided to leave. You're going to be out of here by Tuesday, aren't you?"

Packing up his things from the bunk beds in the sage's hall, Francois was a little over happy. Having turned in his pale slate-colored robes and traded them for a casual pair of slacks and a very loose button up shirt, he was nearly smiling from ear to ear. Emilio on the other hand, his usually smiling face was somber. His hazel eyes were dim, and everything pointed that the other was quite unhappy.

"What can I say? I never really liked it. This place was more of somewhere for me to live. Now, I'm old enough to leave, and I'm a bit excited to beak my schedule down from being here." Tucking some sepia photographs from past events and coronations, along with their 'coming of age' inkings, Francois had quite a few pictures. One of his dear friend Gilbert, who nearly cried while he took pictures of him getting his first inking, another of Francois, Gilbert and Emilio—the inseparable trio of friends.

There was also the very formal one of the Archsages and the group of both boys and girls in their little coven. Five Archsages in the background, and then at least twenty in front of them. It was something he couldn't quite throw away, much like the hidden picture of a pinup girl he hid under the mattress of his bed.

"You know you were just days away from being able to further yourself and do training to be an Archsage, right?"

"Emilio, you act as if I didn't know this?" Looking up to the higher bunk, he watched the other sigh and sit upright after hanging over the edge of the bed for too long. "I can't live like this. Not only am I breaking at least eight of the rules here already, I can't spend another day in the kitchen peeling potatoes."

"You brought yourself into that one, you know. _That_ is what happens when you sneak bits of offering back into your pocket during readings and praise."

"It was for a good cause. I wanted a set of good charcoal pencils. Is that too much to ask?" Tucking what was left of said pencils into his bag, he pulled up the mattress and put the folded picture of the previously mentioned pinup girl in there as well.

"When you leave them in your pocket and let your robes soak, sure. Everyone loved wearing the dusk-grey for a long while." Emilio snorted, shaking his head slowly. "...I hope you know that I'm going through with study to be an Archsage, though."

Looking back up from his things, both had gone silent, more serious than anything. "You're going through with it?" It was hard for Francois to wrap his mind around the fact that one of his dear friends was going to go onward and let go of everything. Money, friends, whatever family he had left or remembered, personal belongings...everything.

"Mmhm. But there's one thing that I can't let go without knowing it'll be in good hands." Tugging at the slate cloth around his shoulders, he pulled out a long gold chain with a small gold locket at the lowest point. "I've had it since I was little, and as long as I've known, it's a gold locket with refined meteorite gems embedded in it. There should be a picture in there, but it's faded away quite a bit."

"Emilio..." The twinkling black stones glimmered at him, almost like the night sky. "You're serious about this?"

"I can't get any more serious, Francois. I don't want it to be thrown away like everything else of mine. I want you to have it, and remember the three of us with it." Allowing the locket to drop into the blond's hands, he reached down from his bunk and folded the other's fingers over them. Where calloused bronzed hands met pale fingertips, it made Francois' heart drop slowly. "Don't think just because we're going in opposite directions, I won't pray for you when I feel you need it. I've been doing that ever since you got the idea of leaving. And, you're going through with it and finding your way."

Francois couldn't find anything to say. It was impossible to turn down the token of endearment that he was being offered. Looking up from his hands, he looked like he was about to cry right then and there. "I'm going to miss you so much." Almost pulling the other off the top bunk, lunged upward and brought the other in for a tight embrace. Emilio did the same, his head resting on Francois' shoulder.

"I'll miss you too. I'm sure that Gilbert will, too."

The lack of the fair skinned man was another gaping wound that couldn't be filled. He went onward with his training and replaced one of the elders, and since then, he had changed significantly. The once talkative albino was now solemn and scarce with his words, and the hazy stare from his red-tinged eyes was enough to spread silence among the young ones. It was like he was someone else entirely.

"I won't forget you, I promise." Francois said quietly, trying to avoid tears.

* * *

The memories haunted Francois in the early morning hours when he felt the warmest. Staring at the wall with eyes wide open, awake and watching as the curtains moved with the wind pushing through the windows. With the room now dim, it wasn't easy for Arthur to see the other's expression, which was a good thing.

The gifted locket sat in a box in his sock drawer, alongside folded ties and bow ties for when formal dressing was a must. Whenever he felt like remembering, he slipped the locket on and hid it under his shirt. To this day, the dark colored crystals glimmered and shone like he had just received it yesterday.

The train of thought he had was interrupted by an arm around his waist, and a familiar stubbly chin on his shoulder. "You're awake a bit earlier than normal..." He murmured lightly, nuzzling until he was comfortable with a heavy sigh.

"Just had a bit of a nightmare, that's all." Francois replied lightly, putting his hand over the other's. "...No bank on Saturdays?"

"Nope. Only from nine until noon, and it's almost ten on a Saturday." There were a couple wine glasses on the dresser from the night before, and clothing was strewn on the floor. What belonged to whom was a question that nobody could answer right at the moment. While the warm moment lasted, it was quiet.

At this point, the mailman had probably come and dropped their letters in the post slot, and maybe the parcel that Arthur was looking forward to was here. He hadn't heard a knock at the door, but maybe he hadn't heard it. "...I do have a question if you're awake enough to answer, though." Francois slowly moved to face the other, bringing the blankets up a bit.

"It's not about how much wine I drank last night, was it? I'm regretting it now." For a moment, it was easy to just appreciate how charming Arthur was to Francois. A bit on the messy side, slightly hung over with just enough flush to his cheeks to make him seem younger. Not to mention the pale freckles that ran from his nose to cheeks. They faded from him being indoors all the time, but they were still present.

"No, it's about where we're going to go for holiday. As much as I'd love to go to Epsilon, I'd honestly rather go a bit farther North and spend time with your family. They've been writing letters to you about how much they miss me. And you, just a little bit." Arthur wrinkled his nose and smirked a bit, shaking his head slowly against the pillow.

"We can do whatever you want. As long as I can have a drink with me, anywhere is fine with you. I'll make sure to pack ahead of time if we're spending all three days up there."

"And we'll have to call about that lakehouse, too."

"And the lakehouse..." Arthur sighed and closed his eyes. "...I think maybe one year I'll save up and we can spend a summer there. Or maybe a honeymoon idea."

"That would be interesting...Either that, or maybe we could go abroad." This gained an odd expression, and Arthur tilting his head. "I read a news ad for a cruise from your hometown to Io. There's backpacking, hotsprings, and the time of the ad would predict the blossoms on the wisteria trees would be in bloom."

"We've got a few months to think about it, or we can go on a late one if you _really_ want to go to Lumaris."

"I think we should do a late honeymoon, then. It'd be a treat for me, as I've never actually been outside of Orion besides to meet your brothers in Cephus..."

"Mm, that's right, and with your family in Grus, you haven't been able to get any mail through. That's understandable." Arthur hummed lightly and slowly untangled himself from the light embrace, running his hands through his hair. "...I still feel awful that you won't be able to have your parents see you on our day."

"I never really knew them, so it's nothing to worry about. They dropped me off with my Aunt in Aurus, she passed away just as I was leaving the house." Francois sighed, looking up at the other. "...You're handsome though, you know that?"

"Is that so? It's never occurred to me that I'm handsome. I always thought you were the handsome one."

"Only in bed and sleeping." Francois hummed, sitting himself upright before stretching.

* * *

Breakfast on Saturdays were usually Arthur's turn to cook, as he did better at making breakfast that both of them could eat and he wouldn't complain about getting fat. As Arthur cooked in the kitchen nook, Francois was going over the mail and what was going on in the town newspaper. "Apparently the capitol's going to close off the sanctuary for a couple days. They say it's for a 'Spring Cleaning'."

"They do that every month with all the blessings that come out of that place. I don't understand why you're so interested in the religion of the Land of Stars. It's just like anything else you'd find in the world these days."

Pursing his lips lightly, Francois shrugged and went on. "Even better, there's roasts for about eighty mella at the market."

"Put that on the shopping list and I'll pick it up after work and we'll have it for Sunday."

It hadn't occurred to Francois that the reason why he was so interested in the sanctuary was because he lived there. When they first got together, he had the lie of his aunt taking care of him after a war-torn Grusian family brought their only son to prosper in Orion. Tattoos? Just his own thing. He saw them on the sages and got something like that. It still befuddled him as to why he just didn't tell Arthur he had been of the sages and see what he'd say, but...

"Francois?"

"Hmn? Did you say something?" Of course he did, but he was so far into his thought that he didn't hear the other over the repeating problem in his mind. 'Why not tell him?'.

"I was asking you how you wanted your eggs, dear. Over easy or scrambled?"

"Easy, and don't pop the yolk, please." Going back to the mail stack, he sorted through the pile. One from Mister and Misses Edelstein, with a pink envelope and Roderich's smooth handwriting. Probably for a baby shower. Invoices from the telephone company, the bank where Arthur worked and another voucher for more grocery sales. The one that stood out was a grey envelope with Francois' name on it, written in very plain font. The more curious thing about it was that there wasn't a return address.

"What's that you got there?" Arthur, being the nosy one he was, leaned over the counter as the envelope was being torn into. "Looks pretty official-looking."

"Probably a secret invite to a wedding bash or something..." Francois sighed, pulling out the folded paper and gazed over the printed text. "Ah shit..."

"What?"

" _Jury duty._ On the Monday before our holiday..."

"It's alright, holiday doesn't start until Friday, so you'll have enough time to—"

"I'm not complaining about that, I'm complaining because I hate sitting through a dull court case only to find that my opinion doesn't matter. My opinion _does_ matter!" Francois huffed, folding the paper back up, proceeding to stuff it back into the envelope.

"I know it does, but some people think your opinion is a bit off. For example, how you suggested I wear purple ties instead of green."

"You wear too much green—purple is good for green eyes."

"And I honestly think you should stop picking up the neighbor's magazines and reading them before they get to them." To this, Francois rolled his eyes at the other approaching with two plates of breakfast, setting both of them down in their designated spots. "You've been quiet this morning, you know. Is something bothering you?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. I've been perfectly fine all morning."

"Francois, you're doing that thing again."

"What thing?" It was starting to become a rapid fire conversation. Arthur had seen it before, when Francois had finally admitted to having nightmares and 'depression' from when his 'aunt' died. As tensions rose, the air grew still, even the sounds of the morning transit outside could be heard over their conversation.

"That thing when you go quiet for no reason, Francois. If you don't want to tell me what's bothering you, I don't mind. Just know that I care about you, and if you need to let off some stress, I'm going to be here for a long, long time if you want to talk."

"I appreciate it, but I don't think I'm ready to say anything about my problems. I'll tell you by Friday, that's for sure."

Breakfast was a bit more quiet, but at the same time, the tension in the air released, and things became a bit better—less stressful.

"So what are you planning on doing today, though? Everyone's probably getting ready for this weekend already. You know how they are." Arthur sipped on his tea and sorted through the newspaper, trying to find something to read. Settling for the comics, the humor today seemed to him more like wet sand being dropped on the beach. It stuck, but it didn't really seem the best.

"Cleaning. And if you could help, that would be preferable."

Usually the little house was clean, and with the hardwood floors throughout the whole place, it was easy to sweep and mop as needed. With the light birch floor and the teal accent that Francois had picked out, along with white being the second accent color, it was a cute and clean-looking place.

The upstairs had a slightly different contrast, with the bedsheets being white, and the floor had been stained a darker color, and the curtains were black, thanks to Arthur. With a mix of both of them decorating, it looked a bit more unique, thrown together.

On different days, Francois would buy flowers from a shop downtown and bring them in to the kitchen. While Francois couldn't keep plants alive for the life of him, he could deal with flowers and let Arthur deal with the houseplants that he didn't dare to touch.

"I don't know, I say maybe we should go back to bed, shower after a while and _then_ clean." Arthur suggested, arching an eyebrow at the other. Francois knew exactly what he meant, earning the other that sly smile he used occasionally.

"And this time, don't try and scare the neighbors by leaving the curtains open and swinging your...thing around."

Arthur snorted, having vaguely remembered doing that. He was a bit odd when drunk, and honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors called in to complain about their rowdy neighbor. "Noted."

* * *

As the weekend rolled on, Saturday went smoothly with cleaning coming after a bit of indulgent pillow talk, and the sheets were washed and smelled of fresh lavender and lilac. Fresh cut flowers were brought into the house again, leaving the kitchen smelling of carnations and roses.

Sunday, none of the shops were open, so it was spent reading and relaxing, preparing for the week ahead. When Monday rolled around, both were haphazardly splayed in bed, curled up against each other. "...Is it bad I don't want to go to work?"

"No, especially if I'm the same way and don't want to go to jury duty. But, it'll take a couple hours to get to the noon hearing..."

"You didn't tell me it was in Epsilon."

"You didn't ask where it was, but just so you know, it's in Epsilon." Francois grunted, sighing heavily before letting his eyes slip close again. Both looked like they were needing a shower, and it was at least seven in the morning, so neither of them wanted to get up out of bed. "You know, you've got work in two hours. You should probably get moving."

"I don't want to go to work, didn't I already say that...?"

"You know that Basch wouldn't let you skip without bringing you into his office to tell you h—"

"How wrong it was of me to skip, and that I put more stress on the others because of my absence." Arthur finished, breathing out a light sigh. "I know."

"Then I'd get a move on. If you go shower now, I'll have tea and breakfast ready. I've had a braided pastry sitting out all night to rise, so it shouldn't take more then ten minutes to bake."

"...You're honestly doing a fantastic job of making me fatter."

"I wouldn't mind. I think you look good with your figure a bit filled out. Makes you look youthful." Smiling as Arthur leaned over and pecked his forehead, Francois watched as the other left, secretly admiring the other's naked rear as he meandered over to the dresser and pulled out socks and underwear, and an undershirt. Suspenders hung off the door, and shirts and dress slacks hung in the closet. "I think with me being out of town today, we should go out for dinner. I can't be bothered to cook today."

"That's fine by me. If I weren't with you, that's what I'd be doing. I'd burn everything on my own and there would be carry out boxes everywhere. Just give me a ring when you get to Epsilon and when you get home, alright? You've got the number for my work, right?"

"Thirty eight, fifty two. Area code ninety eight and extension four for Arthur." Francois recited without flaw. "I'll be sure to bring money for the public phone, too. You don't need to give me anything for it."

"Alright, if you're positive about it." As Arthur dressed, Francois finally got out of bed, hobbling over to his dresser to pick out his own outfit for the day. Looking over his shoulder, Arthur was always interested in the tattoos along his back and shoulders. The amber color showed up well on his fair complexion, and the swirling patterns on his shoulders looked like wings. Along his spine, there lay small circles that ranged from about the size of a marble down to a single pinprick at the middle of his back. Arthur remembered the first time he had seen Francois' inking, and there was a short conversation about it. 'I just really loved the look of the sages' tattoos. I drafted up my own and had it done.'

"...Arthur, I can feel you staring and I feel that it's the good kind."

"Just marveling at my beautiful husband, that's all." He replied, smiling a bit more to himself as he dressed. Francois strode past him, pressing a kiss into his cheek as he went by. All dressed in casual clothes, barefoot with a pair of socks in hand.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me."

With Francois out of earshot, Arthur sighed and his face broke out into a dopey smile. "I'm so damn lucky."

Breakfast went smoothly with a little small talk, and as Arthur's time to go was nearing, Francois sent the other off with a kiss and a goodbye at the door. "I'll call your office, and if I get home later than you, pick something up from wherever. If not, I'll call and pick something up instead."

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind." Arthur called back, walking backwards down the street as to keep the conversation going. "I love you!"

"I love you too, and be careful! I'll see you when you get home!"

With the house quiet, it almost seemed lonely. But then again, that's how it usually was. If Francois wasn't running errands, the house stood still, save for the sound of marching clocks, moving forward in time.

An hour later, Francois took the trolley to the other side of town and booked a ticket for the ten fifteen train to Epsilon. There weren't many faces he remembered, save for the occasional face he had seen walking along the sidewalk near him. The courthouse wasn't too far from the train station, so a quick walk to the payphone and then to the courthouse wasn't unattainable. But, the ride up to the capitol was as boring as ever. Between Saiph and Epsilon were plentiful fields and a couple vineyards here and there. They stopped at a couple other train stations along the way, and by at least a quarter till noon they were at the station in Epsilon. Thank goodness the trains were running early.

There were so many people as the afternoon rush for lunch break had started, and people coming in for their second shifts at retail stores were bustling about. Afternoon waitresses in their uniforms filed out of the station, along with plenty of businessmen and a couple of ladies from a nearby sisterhood of witches.

It brought back memories of when he used to be like that. Wearing the loose fitting clothes, and dark robes for travel. There was an unused payphone at the exit of the train station, so making sure that it had the dial tone, he inserted his coinage and dialed the operator. A quick exchange of words and he was switched over to the Saiph area code, and dialed to Arthur's phone line. A couple of rings, and the familiar voice crackled over the line.

"Saiph Bank and Trust, this is Arthur Kirkland speaking; How may I help you today?"

"Arthur, it's Francois. I'm just calling to say I got to Epsilon in one piece, and I'm heading over to the courthouse for jury duty." The light sigh that Arthur gave was reassurance that he was probably holding his breath and praying that he got there in one piece. "You weren't worried, were you?"

"Worried? Nah, when do I worry?" Another pause from the both of them, and Arthur broke in and spoke. "I was a bit worried, yes. But, you're fine, and I shouldn't be holding you up. You'll be in a bit more trouble than I if you're late."

"True. I'll call again when I get finished. It shouldn't be too long, as it's just something about petty theft. I love you, and I'll see you when I get back home, dear."

"Love you more. Be safe and make good choices. I'll see you, Francois."

After he hung up, Fancois' change slid out of the machine and into the little dish that sat below the phone. Picking it back up and tossing it into his pocket, the blond wandered along with the people and headed to the courthouse. The slip of paper he had said room seven, and that there were supposed to be directions to it.

The courthouse itself was an old building, almost as old as the sanctuary down the street. The old granite structure was built like an old castle with a sort of retaining wall around it, and a tower for those convicted of more severe crime were held there. Gargoyles and angels alike decorated the outside of the building as well. With the sanctuary in mind, maybe he'd pay a visit to his old home after the court meeting. That would be nice. Plus, he could probably do a bit of talking with Emilio if he were still there, and maybe Gilbert would be around. It warmed his heart knowing that he might get to see them both... "Room seven..." The ornate doors did have a handwritten sign in that same plain font on it. 'Noon Court Hearing – Saunders v. Epsilon Police Dept.' "Seems about right." Pushing open the door, it was evident that the room was...empty? All the seats in front of the judge's podium were empty, and none of the other juries were there. Maybe he was early? Checking the time on the note again, it did say noon, as did the notice on the door. "Maybe there's a mistake..."

"No, no mistake."

Whipping his head upward, Francois found the familiar voice quickly, his eyes widening. "Emilio...?" Sure enough, the olive-skinned man stood before him, in full Archsage garb. A string of black beads and white crystals hung from his neck, along with other smaller prayer beads that hung alongside the others. "Emilio, I never thought I'd see you again...!" Coming closer, the other smiled and kept his hands within his cloak.

"It's amazing, isn't it? I thought I'd never see you again, either." There was something off about the interaction. There was something in his posture that gave off an eerie vibe. "How have you been? You look so different..."

"I've been very well—I'm sure I look different without the sanctuary's mandatory haircut, but I still think it looks good on you more than me." Francois joked, offering up a handshake to the other. Emilio complied, but tugged the other into a brotherly hug. "I've missed you all since I've left. I can't be happier, though."

"Is that so?" Emilio pulled back a bit, tilting his head back. "I can arrange for a visit, though. You could come and see all of us back at the monastery this afternoon." Still keeping contact with Francois' hand, the other rested on the blond's shoulder.

"Oh? That would be fantastic, but I've got ju—" There was a sudden numb sensation that rolled through his body, starting with his neck. Looking at the corner of his eye, he could see the culprit. Emilio's hand was placed firmly along the side of his neck. It was all too familiar to him. Luma sages used disciplinary magic to keep the younger sages in check, and it worked just as well on sages who defected from the sanctuary.

"There is no court case. You'll be coming to visit this afternoon, and you'll be staying until Sunday." Emilo said,watching the other crumble in front of him. Slowly, his eyes rolled upward and he toppled to the floor, out like a candle. "...And with you being the seventh for our master Deisidus, we'll be safe this year from any, if not all of our worries and problems that may come in the next seven years."

As Francois' hearing faded out, the last thing he could distinguish was a whisper of 'I'm so sorry' before he blacked out entirely.


	3. Morose

It was worrying when Arthur got home before Francois, and the house was dark. There wasn't a sliver of his presence in the house, and it only made his mind wander as to where he could be. He hadn't thought to call for the other, but...something didn't seem right. Hanging his coat up and leaving his briefcase by the door, he strode in a bit further, turning on the usual lights that would be on.

Dishes still sat in the sink, an empty coffee mug still sat on the table. It was like the whole house was holding its breath, as if one little piece was all it needed to release, the silence would shatter all at once.  
Wandering back to slip off his shoes, a silver-blue envelope caught his eye. It had fancy script on the front, reading 'Arthur J. Kirkland'. Pursing his lips, he slowly picked it up and opened it up.

' _Arthur,'_...Franois' narrow and loopy handwriting littered the page, and his eyes went into overdrive trying to find what was going on. _'I'm sorry I hadn't told you already, but I can't keep living like this. I neglected to tell of my true previous history. I have been Sages in Epsilon since birth, and for the longest time, I've been lying to you about my past._

 _'I can't live like this anymore. I cannot live a commoner's life. I've gone back to live with my brothers in prayer, leaving everything behind. I'm sorry to burden you with all my belongings. I wish for you to either dispose of them or donate them to those more needy than I._

 _'I must do this for the sake of my sanctuary, as they need me now more than ever. I hope that you understand what I'm trying to convey here._

 _Gods be with you,_

 _Francois Bonfils'_

As he read, Arthur shook his head in disbelief. How...How was this...happening? They were planning holiday, a wedding, maybe moving into a cabin... "Francois?! Francois!" Tossing the note aside, maybe this was just a sick joke...right? _Right?_ Running up the stairs, he looked in the bath room, the walk in closet, then the bedroom, finding a glinting silver band on Francois' side of the bed. The faint engraving of 'Love you Forever' was lightly worn away by Francois' fiddling with it, twisting it around his finger when he was flustered or lightly upset.

This wasn't like Francois to up and leave. Sure, when they were first dating, he'd take long walks in the evenings, and sure he'd tend to wander along when he couldn't sleep, but... He hadn't seemed upset or anything about recent events, or maybe...this morning he just decided that he was done?

For now, there was only one thing he could do.

.. … .. … .. …

"He _what?_ " Rory asked, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he cooked. Shock scrolled across his face, eyes wide. Kenneth was working on a whittling project with Shannon, both of them were looking to Rory with concern.

" _He left, he just up and left. I got a letter from him saying that he used to be one of the Luma Sages, and now...I'm just sitting here with the bottle of wine we were supposed to have for our wedding and his wedding band."_ It was evident that Arthur was upset, his voice sharp and quick, hissing in that tone of his. _"Gods, I should have listened better..._ "

"Arthur, Arthur, don't...don't say that, you know better than us that he wouldn't up and leave like that. He was attached to you like glue." Rory went back to stirring the stew he was making, shaking his head slowly. "Worst comes to worst, you go to Epsilon, you go and ask Francois personally why he left, get your closure, and just...go from there."

" _Y-You're right...it'd be better if I did that instead of worrying myself stupid."_ He said quietly, pursing his lips as he slammed his hand on the kitchen counter.

"There you go, that's right...Go shower and get some sleep. If you're going for a confrontation, you've got a long day ahead of you. Chin up, alright? Mum wouldn't want you bawling like a baby. You're a grown man after all."

" _Right...thank you for talking me through this, Rory."_ Arthur sniffed, almost tempted to start pacing again.

"Not a problem, just make sure you get your lover back again. He could just be stressed and looking for his own closure." A couple more quick phrases from Arthur and Rory hung up the phone, sighing heavily.

"What was that about? Arthur sounded upset over the line." Kenneth pulled back and looked at the progress he made. A little wooden spoon—intricately curled around itself at the end. It was actually quite pretty.

"Francois up and left. Maybe he got cold feet and needed to just come clean about everything. Arthur said that he found out Francois was a Luma in Epsilon. It's...crazy. I would have never thought him to be one of those snot-nosed monks."

"People have their secrets. That's all. I wouldn't think that Francois wouldn't have anything. He doesn't have any family he speaks about, so there was your first clue about who he really was." Ken sighed and tilted his head, tossing the little wooden dinner piece on the table. "Brush that down with lacquer, would you? My old bones are stiff."

"Don't see why you can't get up and do it...you're the one doing these stupid crafts..." Shannon mumbled, picking up the carving as they slumped off the chair and into the wood shop that was just a few feet from their little rural house.

After a moment of Shannon being gone, Kenneth sighed and took a sip of the slightly warmed glass of beer that had also been sitting on the table. "Somethin's up with those sages there in the capitol. It seems too perfect in that little country and it's really bothering me."

"You haven't been reading the conspiracy theories again, haven't you?"

"I might of. But it's still something to think about, especially when it's from those who have actually been in the cathedral's lower levels. Usually you'd think they'd have a bunch of wine bottles down there, but apparently there's a whole new church."

"You know that the church was built on an older church, you shouldn't be surprised. Honestly..." Rory huffed, shaking his head a bit as he stepped back from the stove and called upstairs for Bran. "Dinner's ready. And get your nose out of those damn theories. I'm not saying trust the government, but at least have a bit of faith." The hissing remark was brushed off with an eye roll and Kenneth getting other things ready for the others to eat.

"Just 'member that I'm not disagreeing with you solely for the fact that I can't kick your ass. Jus' cause your knees are better than mine don't mean nothin'. I'm still older." Kenneth added, picking up his cane by the door. "Keep that in mind."

"Alright, alright. I hear you. Just eat your veg stew and be happy. _I_ would have made lamb chops but, _noooo_ , the lambs aren't ready yet, they're 'Too thin'."

The petty argument about the sheep went on for a couple minutes before Bran and Shannon came along, Bran being nose deep in a book and Shannon...Well, they were covered in paint from the shop.

While they were quiet, it still bothered Rory to the core about how Arthur was feeling. Francois leaving suddenly wasn't like him at all, and he was surprised Arthur hadn't started drinking out of anxiety. He had just gotten over being in the war, so this...this much stress could bring something back to the surface of the blond's mind. Who knew what would happen to Arthur then?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Two days later, and there was still no sign of Francois. The house lacked that certain light that made it feel like home. The sunset through the curtains that made the room seem like an amber sepia moment now looked like cloudy scotch that had been sitting in the bottom of a glass for too long. Takeout food to him soured his stomach, and it made him yearn for standing in the kitchen with the stove on, listening to Francois talk about how he learned to cook so wonderfully. He found himself standing with a wooden spoon in his hand, but he lacked the courage to try and cook something. The bed was too cold, and it didn't feel right to him. The smell of his cologne with the slight clove and rose scent was missing, fading away as if he had never even slept in the sheets.

By Wednesday, Arthur was up at a decent hour, debating on if he should shave the patchy orange stubble that had accumulated on his chin and jaw. Running his fingers over it, he would have chuckled if Francois said he looked homeless. But, he'd take it in stride and shave it off. That's what he would have wanted, right? So, a quick lather and shave along with a shower came to be, and he donned his clothes. Casual today, since he wasn't working. Slacks, a decent shirt, and a rolled up tie in his satchel if he needed to put it on for whatever reason. Regarding his work, he had called in earlier and explained the situation to where Basch understood, saying 'I've had that problem once before.'. He didn't really take too much time off either way, so his boss was quite rewarding.

It would take two hours until he got to the capitol, and about fifteen minutes from the station was the sanctuary where the Luma Sages lived. On the train, he listened to the other people talk about the sages in hushed tones, saying that they'd be preforming their opening ceremonies on Friday, and they were finishing up their garbs for the street dances. Arthur remembered watching those once or twice, remembering all the intricate movements the sages made, the bright and happy music, the sound of bugles and tambourines, flutes and the like. They made their own flash bombs for when they left, and hand rolled streamers prepared a year in advance and stuffed into small confetti cannons to give to the children.

"You know, I heard that this year was difficult for the sages. They haven't had any of their brothers stay for too long in the end. It's putting a strain on things, so some of them went back." One of the older ladies sighed. She seemed to be devout in the church, holding the little embossed pendant that belonged to the cathedral.

"Oh?" Arthur asked, looking over from the window.

"Mm-Hm. One of my sons left me a note that he needed to go back. The other isn't too happy about it, but that's what happens when you're of the church." She hummed. "You miss things that you never knew you'd miss, apparently."

It was a bit of a disturbing conversation that didn't help his mind at all. She didn't need to know that Francois was like her son, and he didn't need to know the details. "Be sure to get your prayers in, though. After three this afternoon, they're closing the doors to the sanctuary until Friday morning."

' _You're kidding me.'_ Arthur thought. _'On top of all my problems, the church is closed...'_

"Hey ma, I'm back from the dining ca—Weeeelll, what do we have here? Made yourself a little friendo?" A blond man came out of the other car and into the sitting area Arthur and the old lady were in. "He's kinda cute for your kind of friend you kno—"

"I've got a fiance." Arthur snapped, staring at the other with a flat look. The other blinked a couple times and smoothed his hair back, also taking a quick moment to push up his glasses.

"Thank you, Alfred dear-" The old woman broke the silence, taking the paper wrapped goodies from her son. "I'm sorry, but I didn't even catch your name, young man. What was it again?"

"Arthur Kirkland. I'm just on my way to the capitol for holiday."

"Going awful early, aren't you?" Alfred asked. He was a bit strange looking, to be honest. Rectangular shaped face with freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose, straw-blond hair and glasses with warm-hued metal around the rims. The glasses themselves looked high fashion—rounded to accentuate his face shape and the wildness of his hair that stuck up around the front of his hairline. "I mean, we're just going up to see Matthew is all."

"Friend of yours?" Leaning back, Arthur almost wished he brought himself a snack instead of paying outrageous amounts of money for food on the train. How absurd.

"Brother, actually. He said he wanted to do church stuff as a kid, grew up, came home when he grew out of it, went back." Alfred shrugged, taking a bite of what looked like a sandwich.

"Hunh..."

"Mm, he's quite the opposite of Alfred. Matthew grew up a bit sickly as a child, but eventually he grew out of it. My summer and winter children..." The woman sighed lightly, pulling out what looked like a little photo album. Flipping it open, she turned the pages over to Arthur. This is when Matthew just started. I'm lucky that they let us take photos..." The image was of a pale boy with wavy hair along with a younger looking Alfred standing side by side, and a young woman—probably their mother standing between them. "That was when we sent him off, actually."

"Left for twelve years. I heard a buncha 'em left all at the same time. It's weird when you fall out of a hobby like that." Alfred whistled.

"Religion isn't really a hobby, though. I'm not one for believing in such things."

"Not a monothiest?"

"Pardon?" Funny, he never would have thought he'd hear such a big word from someone who looked more like he would be bailing hay all day instead of reading books.

"You're not one of those who think there's one god?" Alfred asked, receiving a bit of an uneasy stare from his mother. "I mean, I know plenty of people who think there's more than one god out there. I mean, if it were me, I'd peg you as one of those witches."

"I assure you, I'm _not_ a witch." Honestly, who would ever think of him like that...? A witch? Spilling blood sacrifices and the like?

"Maybe you're hardcore and not a pagan. I bet you're a Demon-worshipper, yeah?"

" _Alfred._ "

"Look, I'm not of the sort to believe in anything, let alone demons and gods and the like. I'm no pagan, church goer, nor do—" He paused, looking at the other's smug face. "...What in the world is the goal of this conversation, even?"

"I'm so sorry about him, he just really likes to rile people up and try to make them tick- It's a terrible habit to have, isn't it? People don't like you nosing around in their business." Setting herself upright and brushing the crumbs from her skirt, she sighed. "Alfred, mind yourself."

Honestly...he looked like he should be at least eighteen, if not older. Why would he act like such a child? As soon as she left the car though, Alfred leaned forward and blinked a couple times, staring the other down. "Look, I'm asking because I wanna know what you think. I believe that Matthew didn't want to go back to the church. He got invited out to lunch with an old friend and as soon as I get home from work, there's a letter on the table that said he went back for the sake of living an impure life."

"Why do I care?" It was starting to intrigue him, as it sounded way too familiar to be comfortable at all.

"What's your fiance doing up here, then?"

"Is it any of your business?"

"It is when you get that defensive about religion. Plus, you're not telling me I'm a maniac yet." Alfred smirked lightly, taking a bit of the neglected sandwich he had almost forgotten about in the heated debate.

"I had a chance to call you that? What a shame. Moment lost, I suppose. I am intrigued, though. If you're saying that all of what you said is true, my fiance returned to the church as well. It doesn't sit well with me either. It's almost fishy."

"You're telling me. It smells fishier than the fisherman's meat locker." Sitting up so that he could perch on the seat, Alfred hunched over, looking at the other with curious intent, like an owl. "Look, they're doing something in that church and I know you want your fiance back, and I want to know what my brother is doing in there. If you're planning on staying, I can convince my mother to allow you to stay in the bed and breakfast we've got not far out of town. Her brother runs it, and it's pretty nice, and I can get you a good deal from my Uncle Rob."

"As much as I'd love to, I've got a job, and I plan on being successful in retrieving him." Arthur huffed almost indignantly, turning up his nose to the possible gift of hospitality.

"At least take a card." Alfred shook his head and pulled one of those cutsey business cards out of his pocket, flicking it to the other. 'Jones Bed and Breakfast – Open 24 Hours – Meals at Rob's Cafe Available' 9am – 9pm'. "If not, it's a nice place to have a reuniting dinner or whatever."

"I'll keep that in mind." As the train came to the station, Arthur perked up and looked out the window, blinking a couple times as the capitol came into view. Tall buildings, all looking ornate and beautiful as if time hadn't even touched them. As being the 'Holy City', they were still stuck in the past, with little bits of the future peeking through. Street signs, the new motor vehicles that ran on magik energy—only for the richest and most elite of the city owned those—the latest fashions in the shoppe windows, fancy canes and shoes for the men and women of Epsilon, and crystal powered radios that glowed amber in the evening light when everyone tuned into the evening news broadcast.

As the train stopped, Arthur smoothed out his shirt and bid his new 'friends' farewell with a quick stride out of the train car. The air was hot and humid, as going further inland led to desert climates the farther one got from the coastlines.

This was Epsilon. Home of the Gods, the Blessed City. It was already noon by now and Arthur only had so many hours to actually get into the sanctuary. Either that, or he'd have to wait until Friday to try and find Francois. Either way, time was a resource he was running out of.


	4. Sanctuary

"And so the man says 'That's no eggplant, he's just stupid!'"

Laughter around the table burst out, and another hand of cards was dealt. "Francois, I never knew you were so good at poker...! Living in the Caps all your life must have just honed your skills!" Rory took another sip of his ale and shuffled the deck again, laying it down for drawing. In the middle of the table, there were wadded bills and coinage all around, along with a couple of other things like a watch and a pair of keys to the wine cellar downstairs.

"I mostly learned from Arthur, but I found out he was cheating and learned how to play the right way, you know." Francois hummed and re-adjusted his hand a bit. His hair had grown a bit longer than the short style that it used to be, reaching to be a bit shaggy at the tips of his ears.

"Oh sure, imagine that—Arthur cheating?" Bran sniffed, flicking the end of his cigarette into the ash tray, passing it over to Arthur to take a quick drag and pass it back.

"I don't cheat, I just hold onto my good cards, that's all." Arthur did occasionally cheat, but only obviously when he wanted to get in a good joke or something. Tonight, he wasn't due to the watchful eye of Rory being the dealer.

"Alright boys, hands down. Ken, whatchu got?"

"I got jack shit." Another sip of ale and a heavy sigh, and it was on to Bran's hand.

"Straight. That's it." Down another five Galleons and it was on to Arthur.

"Art, whatchu got?" Rory lit up a cigar in anticipation, the smoke curling up from the lit end.

"Full house." He grinned, laying down his cards, adamant about pulling all the winnings towards himself until Rory slapped his knuckes. "Oi!"

"You forgot about Frank—he's got a hand yet still!"

Folding his cards over a bit, he shrugged in response. "It's alright, I don't really have much. Just a king." He said.

"So just high card?"

"And one of these...and these..." Queen, Jack, Ace, and a ten of hearts. "Just a little flush." He turned and smirked at Arthur, whom started pouting like a child, glaring at the other.

"And you said I cheat! That's not right!"

"Not right, or are you just bad at losing?!" Francois snorted, flicking Arthur's nose.

"Either way, you both are gonna have to share the pull out couch. Shan's in bed, Bran's got no room, and nobody wants to share a bed with Ken."

"Oi, fuck off, Rory. You're not much better with your sleep talking." Kenneth got up from the table, finishing off his drink before dropping off the glass in the kitchen sink. "Anyways, tomorrow you can pick your bottle from the cellar."

"What about your watch that you put in there? I don't have any use for that, you know." Francois glanced at the pocket watch that was still resting on the table. Gold plated, a bit beaten up, but it still had the lovely engraving of a buck on the front, surrounded by delicately engraved spring flowers. At one point, it had been enameled with muted colors, but those had worn away."

"Arthur can have it, then. Gotta have something nice to wear with that monkey suit. Besides, I hear having things in the waistcoat pocket is coming back into style." Kenneth shrugged, heading off to his room for the night.

"Just be glad he was willing to part with it. That was Da's back when he lived around here." Rory explained, picking up the cards and putting them back into the worn out cardboard box they had come in. "It's taken a lot of time for him to let go of things, and this is one of 'em."

"No kidding..." Arthur murmured lightly, picking up the watch from the pile, looking it over in the light. "...I can re-varnish it when I have the time. After all, it'd do the little watch some good."

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..

It was like walking through tunnel vision. One goal, one line of sight. So many people were lined up around the sanctuary, the masses of flowers decorating the place were almost blocked out by the sheer amount of human blockades.

From farther back, Arthur could see what looked like seven statues in front of the pillars of the sanctuary, each spaced out evenly. One could tell that they were actually people, from the varying skin tones that each had, and the occasional movement of the head garment covering their faces from the nose up. It made things difficult to discern from a far distance, too. Plus, with him not being very tall to begin with, Arthur was at quite the disadvantage.

"Curse my short legs-" He huffed loudly, trying to lean between people to get a bit closer to the front, hearing the echoing sound of the head of the church speaking above all the people.

"...It gives me great pride to accept those who have returned to the sanctuary in our great time of need. We all know the sacrifices that we make to uphold tradition, and the like. With them presenting our festival traditions, they will be treated as royalty as our chosen ones, and then will be sent to our sanctuary up North to train to be archsages for other churches in the areas surrounding us, to spread the love and prosperity Deiseidus has given us!" Sneaking farther and farther, Arthur wove his way through the people, peeking at the faces behind the Archsage. No, no no...None of them looked familiar at _all._ "At this time, I welcome you into the sanctuary for fellowship and prayer this afternoon. Please, come join us at this time."

The doors opened and the sages slowly filed their way in, one in the front, and the rest making two lines behind the first. The Archsage followed, along with all the other churchgoers following peacefully. Having never been in this place, it was an experience for him as well. After all, he just went for the good time, the food and days off of work.

The ceilings were high and made with stained glass and countless years of endless amounts of skill to make such intricate patterns, like a kaleidoscope on the ceiling. The pews where everyone would sit were wooden, but they were soft with age and smooth of any splinters. Certain people had their spots, and it showed in the way they all filed in and sat themselves down. The front of the sanctuary was also fitted with stained glass windows, and a pulpit that was decorated with flowers. The side aisles were littered with flowers—carnations, chrysanthemums, mums, roses, lilies, daisies, lilac—anything that was in season and blooming, myrrh and incense filled the room, perfuming the already sweet air that was filled with flower petals.

As they made their way to their seats, Arthur found himself a pew in the front where he could see everything. _Not him, not him..._ There was something that was familiar about the one second to last, but he could only see so far from where he was sitting. So, without much thought, he scooted to his right, getting closer and closer to the end of the seat, running into the arm rest before he could could get any closer. It would be rude if he kept on wriggling around, trying to find Francois, and it would be even worse if he got up and started yanking at the robes, pulling away their hoods in order to get a better look at them. For what it was worth, he sat back in the pew and listened only half heartedly, bowing his head at prayers, doing as the others did, looking around and trying to get other glimpses. By the end of it all, they closed in another prayer, dismissing the sages, lining up one, then two by two. Being half awake after all of that, he barely noticed them passing by up until he got a look at a familiar jawline and thin nose. Quickly, he turned around in his seat, almost tempted to grab the other and look at him.

The moment passed, and he couldn't think. There was nothing to say. His mouth wouldn't move, his lips parted in desperation. He missed it. He missed him. And Francois...he didn't say a thing. Maybe he was serious about returning to the sanctuary. Maybe...

As closing time came, people filed out, but Arthur, among all the people, milled around a bit to the prayer hall, where other sages were praying quietly. None that he knew, though. Looking to all the candles that were there, some were burnt down to the little metal nut in the bottom of the candle, and others were fresh. Some were engraved with spidery fonts with names of people they were praying for. _Marion, James, Sarah, Theresa, Alistair, Gene, AJK..._ Wait...

The candle itself was just recently used. The wax in the candle was still half soft, and a quick poke with his fingertip told him just as much. The red wax itself was almost like one of those little jabs at the carved candles Francois saved for Christmas. "You realize that the chapel is closing soon, right?"

The sudden low voice was a jolt from his mind, his green eyes meeting some more...hazel orbs. A man dressed simliar to the sages had come to greet him, dark complected and with a bit of stubble on his chin. "Oh, sorry about that—I'm just...paying my respects really quick before I leave." He nodded, pointing to one of the unmarked candles.

"And playing in the candle wax...?" He arched an eyebrow in response, watching Arthur just crack an odd smile. "I know it's difficult to keep children's fingers out of there, but..."

"What can I say, I'm a small child at heart. Confetti, shiny things, and candles are my weakness." He hummed, keeping up the light ruse. "So, you're going to be closed until Friday, aren't you?"

"Yes, we've got to do more cleaning and decorating around here, and it's best we do that without visitors. It's alright, we'll all be back then, doing our opening ceremonies." The man hummed.

"Father Andan, are you coming to pr..."

Arthur furrowed his brows, trying to recall where he had seen such a familiar face. Pale complexion, those deep blue eyes... But his hair was so short now. The young sage frowned at the other, tilting his head. "Whom are you speaking with? It's time for us to close—everyone's ready for you to come and say grace." He frowned, fiddling with his sleeves a bit. The whole slate and white color scheme was starting to get quite old, Arthur thought.

"It's alright, I was just having a word with...Father Andan, was it?"

"Yes, and this young gentleman was just leaving. You'll be back on Friday, won't you?"

"Absolutely—I have a friend of mine whom just recently rejoined, and I'd like to speak with him then." Arthur saw a visible twitch in the other's eyebrow, a light smile coming to the darker man's expression.

"Mm, it'll have to wait until then. Brother Matthew will walk you to the door, sir. I'll meet you back in the dining hall for dinner and prayer, no need to worry." He smiled, patting the shorter blond male on the shoulder before walking off. It was like nothing. He remembered Alfred from the train and his mother, they came to visit...

As they made their way to the door, Arthur hummed a bit, looking at the meek-looking blond next to him. "So, you're Matthew?"

"Mm-Hm. My given name. I decided to stick with it. It's fitting." He nodded in response, not even making an attempt at a glance at Arthur.

"I met your mum and brother on the train. Miss Jones and Alfred?" Arthur said, expecting a positive reaction from the other. "They were coming in to see you, you know."

"Oh they were? Shame. It hasn't been long since they've visited last...It was just last month anyways." He sighed and tried to keep at a steady pace, as he was just a bit shorter than Arthur.

"Beg pardon? How long have you been here then?" This was getting curious. They had just said he up and left and came back...

"Since I was ten. So it's been...About twelve years now." He nodded. There was something missing. Something was very wrong. Smiling and turning to Arthur as they reached the door, Matthew slowly shoved the heavy wood door open, gesturing for him to go. "It was nice meeting you. May the gods be kind to you this week, and enjoy your holiday."

Walking his way out the door with a befuddled expression, the door slowly closed behind him and he looked back at the carved out blockade and shook his head. "What in the world..." He murmured, looking back at the people. They were milling about, some were setting up things for the festival coming soon, and others were just enjoying the time out in the sun.

He couldn't leave so soon..not now. He hadn't seen Francois yet! He was sure that he was just a bit confused, and maybe...well, maybe he just needed time to think? Sure... But, in the meantime, housing was needed. Pulling out the little card, he walked along the cobblestone streets and found the address. The place was surrounded with little trinket shoppes that were full of cute things that Francois probably would have wanted in the house. Stained glass wind chimes for the back patio, white wicker chairs that reminded them of the beach... But then it finally donned on him. What if he didn't want to come home. He did seem awful upset with that last argument they had. With the anxieties on his mind, he shook his head and entered the little bed and breakfast, finding a rather hefty man with a bushy handlebar moustache.

"Afternoon, sir. Whaddya need?" Good lord, he spoke like Alfred.

"I was wondering if maybe you could cut me a deal on a room tonight? I'm going to be here all weekend and I was talking to Alfred on the way up here from Saiph."

"Oh, your name Arthur with that fiancee?" He asked, tilting his head to the side while he leaned down on the counter, almost to intimidate the other. "Yeah, Alfie was telling me about you. That's real rough, kid. I once had a girl do that to me. Left me cold as ice. But then again this gal was my brother's dog and he had a handfull of treats." It was enough to make Arthur snort in amusement, and the owner of the Inn was humored that he laughed. "Tell ya what. It's a holiday, you've had a rough time, and Alfie thinks that you're hot shit. The good kind, not that you're hot or anything." Picking up one of the keys, he gave it to Arthur, nodding to the stairs. "Third floor room three. We'll do one-twenty from here until you book out. Any longer than a week and I'll be chargin' ya more, a'ight?"

"Are you really sure? You're being awful generous to someone who's a complete stranger." Arthur frowned and looked at the key, arching an eyebrow at the strange man.

"Look," He said in a lower tone, giving Arthur a heavy stare. "Alfred told me that your fiance leaving sounded like Mattie leaving for no reason at all. If it's anything to do with that church, I'm gonna cut ya some slack. There's something really fishy going on. I've been in this town for years and years. I've seen so many of those sages weeks before the little celebration and they turned one-eighties overnight. Forget I said this, take the room and pay when you leave. Supper's at six tonight. Bring your appetite, kiddo." He said, giving a light pat to Arthur's arm before heading back to the office where his other work was.

"Thanks...?" It was so strange...But, given the kindness, he might as well put it to use as he went along his way. He hadn't packed too heavily, maybe just his satchel with a pair of fresh underwear if anything. He had money left from groceries, so if anything else, salvage stores and resale shoppes would be open for a while longer. Climbing the stairs, he admired some rose-tinted windows that looked over the street and onto the cathedral. From here, it looked ominous. Like a towering dragon that challenged the thunder clouds rolling in from the sea. He went on up the oak stairways and to his room. Third on the third, easing the key into the lock and easily opening it up to look at the room. A small bathroom with a minimalist shower, a single bed with a dresser and a radio in the corner, and a desk with a vanity mirror behind it.

Waddling in, he put his bag down and slid off his shoes, sitting down on the bed soon after to rub the arches of his feet. Working that desk job sure had him spoiled. Flopping back on the bed, he heaved a breath and put his loosely balled fists over his eyes, breathing again, this time shakier. "What the fuck is going on...Francois..." Pulling his hand away from his face, he looked at the wedding band still wrapped around his finger, then pulled out the other wedding band from his pants. "Why would you go so suddenly?" He whispered. "It's not like you at all."

.. … .. … .. … .. … ..


	5. Rememberence

_'Do not come back here. Ill fate awaits you if you do.'_

The voice woke him from deep sleep in the middle of the night. The dim street lights cast light the small clock on the bedside table. Three in the morning. Sighing heavily, he pulled on some clothes and decided to meander around the inn for a bit. They had also said that there was a little man-made hot spring in the back that anyone could use, but Arthur wasn't really looking for a dip any time soon. With the cool air coming in from the open windows, it was pleasant indoors. Everyone was asleep, save for a familiar looking male in the lobby. There Alfred sat with a notepad in his hands, jotting something down. It looked like he hadn't changed out of his clothes for the day, still wearing his denim slacks and canvas shoes. "Can't sleep?"

"Not at all. Usually this place helps me sleep like a baby, but I can't stop thinking." He replied, scrawling a bit more before glancing up at Arthur. "Can't sleep either?"

"Nightmare. I'm a light sleeper as it is, and I can't get back to it." Arthur sighed lightly, wandering over to the bench where he sat, sitting next to the other blond. "I saw your brother yesterday, though."

"I did too. He didn't even recognize me right away. He had to ask me who I was, and then he acted like he never left the place. They chopped his hair down like it had been before. Somethin' really looked off 'bout 'im." Alfred murmured the last bit, shaking his head slowly. "You get to see your beau today?"

"Only in the chapel. He didn't even look at me." Arthur replied, furrowing his eyebrows. "I was just about ready to reach out and grab his shoulder, but that would have caused a scene. It's like he didn't even see me, though. I'm not an easy one to miss, either."

"Oh no kidding. That face you're making is a hard one to miss." Alfred snorted, crinkling his nose up before he looked over his notepad again. "But I've been doing some looking into the church. I mean, snooping around and stuff, and according to some of their stuff, there should be more sages. There's always seven missing after each holiday we have. Every seven years, seven go missing without a trace."

"Don't they just go do more religious stuff?"

"Yeah, but they come _back._ " Alfred retorted quickly, giving the other a heavy stare. "I've had a lot of time to learn about this since Matthew went on at an early age. There are a shit-ton of missing people and empty plot holes in this religion and the town."

"How so?"

"I'm glad you asked." Flipping back a few pages, read off a page with lots of scrawled handwriting. "There's a set schedule for everything and there's a place for everything. Sages in the morning go to the Fellowship Hall for worship with the people, and one of the Archsages stays behind to give the sermon. The rest of the Archsages go to the Temple of Deiseidus."

"Where...There isn't a temple. It's just the one monistary and the living quarters are right off the side. There can't be any room for a whole temple there—"

"That's because it's below." Alfred flipped another page, showing off a blueprint that someone else had drawn. "There's rumored to be a basement of some sort underneath the whole building. Nobody knows how far it goes down, but historically, there was a meteor that crashed there and caused a deep gash in the ground that went down about a mile. People said they filled it in with leftover rubble from mining in the mountains, but there's no account that they did." Alfred said, flipping a couple more pages, reading off of that. "It says in my notes that about a thousand years back, they filled most of it in and then built a building over the hole that was left, and said it was used as a 'cooler' of sorts. You know, for wine and stuff like that."

"You really have been bothered by this, haven't you?"

"That and I've got a lot of free time to do research like this. I work at a library back home in Bee-town."

"You're from Betelgeuse?" That wasn't too far from Saiph, actually. Maybe about a fifty minute train ride from the train station. "I'm from Saiph."

"Jeez. Small world." Alfred chuckled. "Still, with that little bit about the pit under there, it makes me wonder if that meteor is still down there. Like...they would have pulled it up out of the ground, right? If so, where is it?"

"I have no idea. You'd think it'd be in some museum around here, but...there's only cultural museums about the other religions they got going on around here." It was strange. Everything about the church here was shrouded in mystery. When did it start? What was the 'end prophecy'? There wasn't one. Just the whole 'pray to our god and you will be saved'. Saved from what?

"I don't know about you, but I'm gonna try and sneak in at some point and look at what's down in the basement. I've narrowed it down to where it could be in there, and I think it's in the little library they have. There's a door there that supposedly leads to nowhere with a small sign that says 'Do Not Enter'. Why not look there?"

"They're closed until Friday. Locking the doors and everything."

"That's when I'm going to sneak in, though. It'll be open to the public, most of it focused in the fellowship hall." Alfred flipped back to the blueprint, circling lightly over the library. It's far enough out of the way that I'll be able to sneak in, look around, and come back."

"And if you get in trouble?"

"Psh, all they do is give you a smack on the knuckles and send you off. It's happened before." He replied with a grin, flipping the notepad shut. "In fact, you'll be back here after a while, right? I'm heading over to the church at about ten in the morning, right when the parade starts. Meet me back here at noon and we'll go over what I saw down there."

"Wait, are you dragging me into this religious nonsense?" Arthur frowned widely, a bit offended that Alfred thought that he was 'buddy buddy' with him to the point of sharing conspiracy theories. "I'm not your friend when it comes to this, I'm just-"

"Looking for your beau, I know, but we're in the same boat. Matthew's acting weird as hell, and on Friday, you'll find out if Francois is okay. Right? If we're in the same boat, why not help each other out here in exposing what the hell's going on in there?" It was a tempting offer, and Alfred had a good point there.

With a heavy sigh, Arthur hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever agreed to..."

Alfred cackled and clapped the other blond on the back, grinning widely. "Alrighty, then! This is going to be interesting, and I know you're sitting on the edge of your seat for this~"

"Something tells me I'm more so going to regret it."

The conversation ended soon after that, as Alfred headed back to the room where he was staying, and Arthur did too. Running his fingers through his hair again made him grimace a bit. He had forgotten to shower in the heat of the day, and now his hair was greasy and his scalp itchy. It wouldn't take long to hop in the shower and give a quick rinse to his hair. So, as soon as he got back to his room, he turned on the hot tap with a little bit from the cold knob, waiting for the water to warm. Looking himself over in the mirror, he realized how tired he looked. Dark circles under his eyes still, a bit of stubble here and there, and his hair was an absolute mess. 'It makes you look like a scientist. Or a stressed banker.'. Snickering at the comment from long ago, he pulled off his clothes, looking himself over. Freckles dotted over his shoulders, and a couple scars from his tour came into view. Most of them were from bar games he played and got cut by broken bottles, but there was one not far from the shoulder joint, and another that was over the right side of his stomach. He remembered what had happened that day quite clearly. Enemies from Grus had ambushed them in their camp, jumping the trenches quick enough to surprise them. Arthur was in the middle of writing letters to his brothers while the other three bunk mates were talking. Three soldiers came in, killing one instantly while the other two fought, Arthur sprung up with his firearm only to have it knocked out of his hand and stabbed in the shoulder and stomach. In moments, Arthur was subdued and pinned to the floor, one blade removed to try and make another slash, this time around his neck. Blood had been leaking friviously from his wound, and his might was unable to keep the blade from descending ever so slowly and shakily. The blade never reached his neck, as gunfire cracked from behind the rogue soldier, the body falling slack on top of him, pushing that first knife farther in, causing more screams to echo in the camp. There had only been a few casualties and injuries, but that was all in the art of war.

After that, the incident wasn't spoken of, and all the Grucian attackers were captured and put to death. It was only a month later that they won the war and Arthur's wounds were mended. The mental wounds from war and being attacked...those took a while to smooth over. But, as soon as his time with the army ended, he had met Francois, lessening the mental stress of focusing on those things. After all war did things to people.

His thoughts were brought back to the shower as steam rose and fogged up the mirror, prompting him to pull off the rest of his clothes and step into the hot water. Home made soap sat in the shower caddy, wrapped in waxed paper, all ready for him to wash up. Nothing too fancy at all with a hand written note on what scent it was. "Lavender. That'll be helpful..." He murmured, unwrapping the little parcel, lathering it up and using the suds to wash himself.

Even so, the hot water was enough to relax him a bit further, allowing some ease in falling asleep for later. Even when he was done, he stood for a while in the shower, waiting for the water to turn cold. What if there was a pit under the temple like Alfred said? What was down there? Was it just a wine cellar? And what would happen if Alfred did go down there? What if he didn't come back? The thoughts were muddled by Arthur's need for sleep, and eventually forgotten as he got out and dried off, and then got back into the bed. The cool air coming in from outside was enough to lull him back off into his dreams, unbothered until the morning sun came shining in through the curtains.

.. … .. … .. …

"So you enjoyed yourself?" Arthur panted heavily, laying on his side under the mismatched sheets of the hotel room, smiling lightly as he watched Francois' expression closely. The lithe blond next to him was trying to catch his breath, eyes closed as he summed up his words.

"Gods, yes..." He breathed in response, tilting his head to look at the other. "Very much so. If I weren't so exhausted, I would have offered up another round." The afterglow of what they had just done still lingered on his face, right at the tops of his cheekbones and in his eyes, giving a subtle glow. "I really want to see you more often than just on dates in my 'home'." For the past few months, Francois had been living in an extended stay hotel room, living out of a bag of clothes and on take out food due to the lack of a job and kitchen. He was living off the money that he had made doing work at the monastery, and that was even running out ever so slowly.

"I could help you find a home to live in—I'm sure they've got good real estate around here and you could..." Arthur stopped mid sentence, being shooshed by his partner's finger. "...Mm?"

"I was hoping that I could actually live with you. We've been seeing eachother for long enough, do you think we could...?" Francois asked, rolling over onto his side. "I could get a job somehow and help you pay rent. I know it would put a strain on you feeding another person, but I can always help pay for food, too."

"Are you sure you'd want to? You're out on your own for the first time, and you've had your alone time, right?" He frowned, pulling the finger away from his lips.

"Arthur, I would know if I want to live with someone I love. I know it's been a short time since we've started dating, but I feel confident in this." Francois responded, watching as the other looked down while pressing his knuckles to his lips. "Arthur, please don't do that face at me."

"What face?" He knew which one. The one where he made the puppy eyes while he thought about things, pretending to kiss Francois' knuckles. It didn't work quite so well with the new look he was trying with his facial hair, but all together, it was strange. "I just...what if you find out you don't like living with me and it affects 'us'?"

"Arthur...I've lived with that facial hair of yours. There's nothing I can't handle now." Francois snorted, crinkling his nose as he smiled. "So, is it a yes?"

"I suppose...you'll have to check out tomorrow morning so I can bring your stuff home with me. You have so much shit, I'm worried about where I'm going to be able to put it."

Francois only smiled at the other's teasing, leaning in to shut the other up with a long and deep as they lay half covered by the thin sheets. Letting off so the two could breathe, Francois brought a hand to Arthur's face, smoothing back his partner's hair ever so gently, watching as he melted into his touch, closing his eyes slowly. "I'll help you pay for this week's rent and get you moved in tomorrow. Sound good to you?"

"It sounds _wonderful_ to me." Francois replied quietly, snuggling up closer as the evening gave way to sleep and the quiet sounds of them breathing.

With moving being a small hassle, Francois was floored by the fact that all his things fit in Arthur's small apartment in the small suburb a mile or so away called Lyra. It looked like a little cottage, but it was quaint and had two matching 'sibling houses' next to them. 'If this an apartment to you, I wonder what a house would be like' was the first thing Francois murmured, looking over the kitchen, stashing his food items along with what Arthur had...which was practically nothing as he usually ate out or snacked around for meals. "You've honestly got to get some groceries...there's no way that you're going to have crisps again for dinner."

"What? I'm just living here, don't get upset at me for trying to keep myself fed!" Arthur huffed, taking boxes into the bedroom, dropping them off before coming back with another chuff. "I actually called someone about a dresser for your things, for now, you can squeeze your things in with mine."

Still, Arthur couldn't help himself but to smile to watch Francois put his things away, almost like a curious kitten, and occasionally making a face, showing off the grotesque thing Arthur forgot to throw away from the cupboard. It was almost like a dream. Arthur couldn't believe his life went from something so loud and destructive to something nearly...normal. Although Arthur was doing fieldwork to get by, and Francois was trying to study to become a teacher of sorts, things fell through after four years of studying and saving... Arthur eventually found a new job in the city of Saiph, landing them there in their little house near the beach. It was good. Very good.


End file.
